Black on Black, Sin on Sin, White on White
by HeathyHeather
Summary: A Fanfiction based on Rebel Angels and the song 2 AM by Alexz Johnson! After Kartik has left, Gemma is left in ruins. See how it takes her from pure devastation to the cure of a broken heart!
1. Chapter 1

_**This is a Fan Fiction based on the book, _Rebel Angels, _by Libba Bray and also the song 2 AM by Alexz Johnson. It starts from chapter Thirty-Six of Rebel Angels, after Kartik has kissed Gemma and then leaves. The link to the lyrics of the song : __.__ **_

Black on Black, Sin on Sin, White on White

I sit staring out of my window at the Kartik-less carriage house. Christmas has finally passed. The black sky is interrupted by white snowflakes. The snow is piling up, white on white. Yet still, the light emerging from the carriage house breaks past it all and stabs my heart with regret and sadness. I didn't mean to have insulted. It was all just a big mistake. One that I would never forget, I am sure.

It wasn't all completely my fault though. He kissed me into ruins. What was I to do but to react to rashly. I didn't think. I didn't see it as an insult… but now… now that I look back, I see my fault. This causes another pang of anguish. I turn from the window, to break my concentration on my sins. I make my way to my bed. I wish it were still warm, but I have been sitting here for hours, by the candle light and now I can barely keep from crying. What is so wrong with me?

I climb into the cool covers. I blow out the candle in my hand, downstairs I can hear the Clocks chiming. It is officially 2 AM and now I can break down and actually reflect until I am in the sweet hammock of slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Do note that I did take a scene from Rebel Angels for this chapter, where she is dreaming (if you are wondering)**_

Black on Black, Sin on Sin, White on White

I can hear the distant church bells. It is Christmas morning again, but why? So that I may relive the tragic morning that was played out earlier? Everyone is asleep and the house is quiet. It is the servants and me, time seems so slow this time though. I walk in nearly slow motion as the servants seem to whiz by me, avoiding my eyes. Only now can you see how things really unfold, when you watch it again, and slowly, so that the events commence at a slower pace, so that you can make sense of things.

I see the lone carriage house sitting there quietly, peacefully, something I would like to see so often. It was beautiful. I make my way to the house and draw open the door. Again I see Kartik, still in the clutches of sleepiness, looking as charming as ever.

The same dialect happens. "I've come to apologize for last night. And to thank you for helping him," I say once again.

"Everyone needs help sometimes."

"Except for you"

He doesn't answer same as last time. Then he pulls out that cloth that contains the charm blade. "Merry Christmas, Miss Doyle."

"What is it?" I ask, which is dumb since _I_ already know, but I guess _she_ doesn't.

"Open it."

As the last time I see the blade the size of a man's thumb.

"Megh Sambara. The Hindus believe that he offers protection against enemies."

"I thought you had no loyalty to any customs other than the Rakashana's."

He looks the same embarrassed as before as he charmingly sticks his fists into his pockets. "It was Amar's."

"You shouldn't part with it, then," I push it towards him.

"Careful. It is small but sharp. And you may have need of it."

"I shall keep it with me. Thank you."

"Tonight is Miss Worthington's Christmas ball, yes?" He runs his hands through that curly mess of hair, like he always does, and he looks cuter than ever.

"Yes."

"What do you do at these balls?"

"Oh. There is a great deal of smiling and talking of the weather and how lovely everyone looks. There is a light supper and refreshments. And the dancing comes, of course."

"I've never been to a ball. I don't know how this sort of dancing is done."

"It isn't so difficult to master for a man. The woman has to learn to do it in reverse without stepping on his feet."

Kartik puts his hands up in the frame of dancing. "Like this?" He starts moving around.

"A bit slower. That's it."

"I say Lady Whatsit, have you had many callers since arriving in London?"

"Oh, Lord Hoity-toity. Why, I've so many cards from the very best people that I've had to put out two china bowls to display them all."

"Two bowls, you say?"

"Two bowls."

"What inconvenience for you and your china collection." He laughs in his lovely way.

"I should like to see you in black jacket and white tie."

He stops, "Do you think I would look the grand gentleman?"

"Yes."

Bowing he asks, "May I have this dance, Miss Doyle?"

Curtsying I say, "Oh, but of course, Lord Hoity-toity."

"No. May _I_ have this dance?"

I look around and I can see the wheels turning in my head. Finally I let my chilled hand slip into his.

Looking down I say, "Ah, your, um, your other hand would be at my waist."

He puts his hand at my hip, such a gentle touch, "Here?"

"Higher," I squeak out. Finally he finds where my waist is, "That's it."

"What next?"

"We, we dance."

We danced awkwardly for a moment or two. Then finally he says, "I think it would be easier if you weren't pulling away."

Embarrassed I say, "This is how it is done."

Now he pulls me in, so close I can feel the warmth coming off his body and being evaporated into mine. He moves his hand to the small of my back and I look around. No one is there but I am so scared.

"Gemma," he says so that I have to look at his beautiful browns, "There is something I need to tell you…."

Whatever he has to say will ruin this perfect moment so I back away, clutching my stomach to steady myself.

He looks worried, "Are you all right?"

I nod. "The cold. Perhaps I should be getting back."

"But first I need to tell you – "

"There's so much to do."

"Well, then. Don't forget you gift."

He hands me the blade and then within seconds his lips are on mine, embraced in a kiss. I back away.

"Please don't."

"It's because I am Indian, isn't it?"

"Of course not. I don't even think of you as an Indian." Stupid, stupid Gemma! What is wrong with me? His face is plain with hurt. He laughs pretentiously. He gives me the hardest look in the world and I feel tears in my eyes.

"So you don't even think of me as an Indian. Well, that is a tremendous relief."

"I – I didn't mean it like that."

"You English never do." He walks into the stables and I follow quickly behind him. I am only now seeing how insulting it sounds. It's too late, I've mess thing up. Kartik starts packing.

"Where are you going?"

"To the Rakashana. It is time for me to claim my place. To begin my training and advance."

"Please don't go, Kartik. I don't want you to go."

"For that I am sorry for you."

"You best go in. Would you be so kind as to give this to Emily for me? Tell her I am sorry I cannot continue teaching her to read. She'll have to get someone else."

"Kartik. Don't you want to take the cricket bat?"

"Cricket. Such an English game. Goodbye, Miss Doyle." He starts to walk away from me fading into the first light of the morning.

* * *

I wake up with sweat on my forehead. His voice is ringing in my head. 'Cricket. Such an English game. Goodbye, Miss Doyle.'

I don't think I will ever be able to get over it. I wish I could turn back time and change it. He would still be in that Carriage house and I could still look down and see his light shining through. My heart flutters and my stomach cringes, I lay down and close my eyes but sleep never comes and soon it is early morning.


End file.
